


The Ouran Virtual Host Club

by ArtHistory



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Belly Kink, Fat Shaming, Food Kink, M/M, Masturbation, Teasing, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, Webcams, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:34:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27299545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtHistory/pseuds/ArtHistory
Summary: So many years after they graduate high school, and in this time of great crisis, the Ouran Host Club has gone digital! Things are going incredibly well, but it seems our President has put on some quarantine weight.What's a Vice President to do?
Relationships: Ootori Kyouya/Suoh Tamaki
Comments: 6
Kudos: 80





	The Ouran Virtual Host Club

“Ahhh, Kyoya, my dear. Having you during this time makes this all the more bearable.”

Kyoya only gave the most mild smile as the woman swirled her champagne, sipping it before waving at the camera once more.

“Of course, Princess. And do continue to enjoy the sun at your villa, you’re positively glowing.”

The high-pitched squeal as the young heiress ended her call was a sure sign to Kyoya Ootori that she would certainly be a repeating customer. A customer of a club reformed specifically during these terrible times.

The Ouran  _ Virtual _ Host Club.

Kyoya rose from his seat around his recording space, taking a few steps away from the well-lit set to find, snatch up his cellphone. No new texts. Well, aside from 15 from Tamaki, which Kyoya promptly marked as ‘Read’. Placing his phone down and raising his arms up over his head, Kyoya stretched upward until he felt his back give a soft *POP*.

Kyoya sighed.

Reforming the club had been Tamaki’s idea, but it has required Kyoya’s managerial skills. An MBA had helped slightly, but these were skills the third son of the Ootori Clan had possessed since he was a 17, nevermind ten years later. It was…nice. A wonderful side project, though honestly it took up more and more of Kyoya’s time. He’d never admit cancelling meetings to do another hosting session, no matter how much ‘Daddy’ (the blonde idiot), begged ‘Mommy’ (him) to say he loved it. It was a wonderful way to earn a little more money, and more than that...it was fun. Refreshing. A nice return to form, and an excellent excuse to remain in communication with his old friends. He looked over his spacious apartment, and then back to the small set he’d constructed. Bookshelves upon bookshelves, Tamaki’s idea, giving him the cool elegance of a college professor, or great scholar. He crossed back to his phone, picking it up and sending out a mass text.

“Group meeting. 15 minutes. Please wrap up client calls.”

Two immediate responses of a heart eyes, then a face-with-tongue-sticking-out emoji.

Three sparkling hearts from Honey.

An ‘Ok.’ from Haruhi.

A thumbs up from Mori.

A selfie from Tamaki.

Kyoya blushed. Oh...that angle was…

Kyoya cleared his throat.

A few minutes passed, and soon the faces of his friends were filling up his screen.

“Hello every-”

“These goddamn rich people.” Haruhi interrupted, “I swear, dropping so much money just to watch us eat cake and drink tea! I’m getting my J.D., damnit! I WISH I had the money to-”

“Hiiiii everybody!” Honey waved, his camera tilted too far up for anything but the top of his head to be seen, Kyoya refusing to admit to himself how adorable it was. 

“Mamaaaa send more girls our way!” Kaoru said, leaning into the camera with a huge frown.

“Yeah! No one wants mischief right now! But they need it! Need to loosen up!” Hikaru added.

“Mm.” Mori nodded, sitting stock still on his screen.

“Yes, your lessening patronage has been noted, Kaoru. Our most popular host is still-”

“Me!” Tamaki cheered, only turning his camera on at the last moment, the ring light illuminating his handsfome face, cheeks rosy as he threw his arms into the air, met with several, white rose petals falling all around him. His set was truly the most decadent, designed to look like a Prince’s study, complete with portraits and a roaring fire. He continued to pose, waiting, waiting- then finally bowing as Honey let out enthusiastic laughter.

“Yes, our eternal Prince is still our most popular for our largest ‘Tea and Cakes’ package. Haruhi, you still lead the pack on the 2nd tier ‘Chat’ package, with Mori and myself coming up third with the ‘Listening’ package. But,” He added, already seeing the twins becoming huffy, Honey tearing up, “We are all essential to this Virtual Club, as Tamaki has mentioned many times. We’re doing incredibly well on our numbers. I’ll note down any further requests for tea and cake you all need refilled. But before that...how is everyone?” Kyoya said, clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses in a way that made Haruhi smile softly.

The next hour was dominated by friendly conversation, before each member said their goodbyes.

“Ah, Daddy, please hang on. I need to speak with you about your most recent restocking request.”

Tamaki’s eyes went wide.

“Ooooo! Somebody’s in troubleeee” The twins purred, before quickly signing off.

Tamaki gulped as Kyoya’s face filled up his entire screen.

“I understand you saw more than 15 guests today, Tamamki. I’m quite impressed.” Kyoya said, smiling the same smile a Noh mask might give. Calm. Cold. The endless stress of a pristine body of water, giving nothing away.

Tamaki’s heart beat in his chest.

“I...yes. A little higher than my daily average, but isn’t that a good thing?”

“It is, indeed.” Kyoya said, tilting his head slowly to one side, as if considering Tamaki like a cat considers a canary in a cage, “12 to 15 guests on the ‘Tea and Cake’ plan is...an entire cake every 24 hours, Daddy.” Kyoya said, cooly.

Tamaki gulped.

“So why,” Kyoya asked, “Are you requesting more stock? You say you’ve run out of cakes, but for that to be true, you’d need to be eating two cakes  _ every single day _ .” Kyoya continued, leaning a bit closer towards his camera, his eyes betraying that cool demeanor as he slowly growled,

“Are you eating too much, you fat little piggy?”

Tamaki whined. His cheeks reddened. He leaned back in his chair, no longer at an angle where his once pristine jawline held tight, letting it sink slightly into his neck, double chin rounding out his handsome face, making the Suoh Clan member look more like a spoiled lord than an elegant prince. 

“It’s all just so  **good** , Kyoya.” Tamaki whined, “Don’t tease me!”

Kyoya grinned, eyes wide, almost wild, as he brought up his phone.

“Don’t tease you?! You know exactly what you wanted when you sent  _ this _ .” Kyoya hurried, bringing his phone up to the screen, pointing to the selfie Tamaki had sent him.

On the screen the blonde man’s smiling selfie, head tilted to hide his second chin, but with a tap of Kyoya’s finger, a quick zoom - it was there. Rounding out below a generous looking chest, Tamaki Suoh had an unmistakable  **pot belly** . Deliciously overfilled with cakes and sweets, it rolled out into his lap, onto thick, meaty, generous thighs. The top button of his blue blazer was straining in the image, which forced Kyoya to imagine just how much the bottom button must be crying out in agony as a wave of French pastry stretched it to its limits.

Tamaki grinned.

“Am I a bad, bad piggy?” He cooed, shifting himself and the camera so that the belly in the photo was now live on screen.

Kyoya’s cheeks flared as Tamaki’s still-slender hands drifted to it, pressing at the stretched fabric to grab, knead,  _ fondle _ all that sweet, decadent cream.

“You-” Kyoya panted, feeling the pants of his suit tent as his lover so unabashedly  **smacked** the side of his gut, watching the mass quake beneath Tamaki’s tight clothes, hearing his Tamaki let out a soft, desperate  _ whine _ of his name as he did so.

“You cannot be sending images of such **sexual** **nature** in a groupchat!” Kyoya huffe, puffed, letting out a small, desperate, “Tamaki!” as the blonde seemingly summoned a cake to himself. Fork in one hand, plate in the other, Tamaki speared a massive portion and brought it to his lips with eager delight.

“Are you saying my eating is like  **sex** to you, Kyoya?’ Tamaki asked, sucking the fork free of chocolate, holding it in his mouth as he gave his round, overfed gut another  **smack** .

“Tamaki-”

“If just seeing my belly is so  _ indecent _ .” Tamaki teased, taking another massive bite and leaning back in his seat, fire roaring behind him, making the blonde prince look like some dark god of gluttony, “Then what would me bursting out of my clothes be, darling?”

Kyoya gasped, watching as Tamaki let the fork drop to the carpeted floor below, grabbing a messy handful of cake and bringing it to his lips, smearing chocolate there and sucking each of his fingers clean, making a show of puffing out his belly, leaning forward to  _ squash _ his chubby moobs together.

“I just  _ can’t  _ stop  _ eating _ , darling. Even when I’m full, I want more. I’m so greedy. So piggish. And it’s making me so  **fat** .”

Kyoya groaned. Fumbling into his desk for a bottle of lube, he hurriedly fished out his slim, aching cock and began to pump, one hand covering his face, eyes behind his glasses searching between his fingers for-

“Oh Christ, Tamaki!”

The blonde had shed his blazer, and had greedily brought the plate the cake was on up to his face. He bit, gorged, glutted,  **chomped** through the heavy, chocolate and raspberry, Black Forrest cake, moaning, puffing, snuffling his way through the rich dessert like a hog at a trough.

His buttons began to gape, stomach churning as his gut rounded, bulged forward as the Prince packed in more, more. More food. More calories. More inches of warm, rich, decadent  _ lard _ around his waist. 

Gold-dusted pastry dough began to shimmer through the stretched fabric of Tamaki’s screaming, white button-up, large swaths of rolling, French cream filling up and out.

“Fuck! T-Tamaki! Y-You’ve-You’ve eaten yourself so big! So round! S-So fat! Lost all control, you hungry, spoiled glutton! Y-You’re nothing b-but a pig now! A greedy, overfed  **PIG** !” Kyoya panted, biting his knuckle as a blast of ecstasy painted his fist, the head of his cock.

Tamaki only continued to eat, daring to let out a moan, a whine of how much he wanted to eat, how much larger he wanted to get.

In another moment the cake was gone, and the blonde prince was groaning, falling back into his seat as the platter dropped to the floor. 

Kyoya watched in horror, in desperate, needy arousal as those cake-stained hands  **clapped** to Tamaki’s bloated  **gut** , staining it,  _ ruining it _ as his Tamaki groaned, sucked in sharp, panting breaths before-

**BEOUUURRRP**

_ Pop _

_ Pop _

_ Pop _

Tamaki sighed, an earth-shattering belch rocketing out of him as the lowest buttons of his shirt burst loose from the sudden movement of leaning back, the wave of Tamaki’s overfed gluttony snapping them from the expensive fabric.

The blonde cocked one eye open, feeling bloated, exhausted.

But it was oh-so worth it.

Kyoya was slumped back in his elegant, black chair.

His glasses eschew. His dark bangs glued to his forehead. His designer suit ruined from the force of his climax.

Tamaki smiled as Kyoya attempted to fix his glasses, hurriedly tuck his cock back into his pants.

Kyoya cleared his throat.

“I will...fulfill your order request immediately.”

Tamaki laughed as the man immediately signed off.

Oh, Kyoya’s newfound kink was something he was going to have a  _ lot _ of fun with.


End file.
